


Little Scrap of Fabric

by squidnie



Category: The 100 (TV), The 100 Series - Kass Morgan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Oral Sex, Pure PWP, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-18
Updated: 2016-12-18
Packaged: 2018-09-09 15:20:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8896534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/squidnie/pseuds/squidnie
Summary: Bellamy accidentally sees Clarke in a thong and the rest is history, really.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I had this idea in my head and it wouldn't leave. So this happened. I'm complete trash.
> 
> This is my first time writing real PWP so feedback is welcome and encouraged.

Bellamy didn’t mean to. Really, he didn’t. It wasn’t his fault that Clarke left her door unlocked and had called him in when she was half-naked.

Okay, so the excuse was lacking in substance and he felt like a creep but really, he didn’t mean to do it.

 

It had started with what he planned on being a quick trip to Clarke’s apartment to drop off beer for the upcoming party she was throwing. He’d knocked on the door and entered at the muffled response of “come in!” that he’d gotten in return. Bellamy set the beer on the counter in Clarke’s kitchen then made his way down the hall to her room to say hi before he ducked out again.

“Hey Raven,” Clarke had called, “did you see my heels in the living room?”

“Not Raven,” Bellamy had answered, amused, and turned the corner. And he was graced – or cursed – with the view of Clarke, bedroom door wide open, wearing a tank top and nothing but a black lace thong on her lower half, standing in front of her closet with her hands on her hips.

That was how Bellamy ended up mouth open and stupid, staring at his best friend’s ass.

 

“Bellamy?” Clarke all but screamed.

It was enough to pull him from his shock. “Holy shit,” he swore, turning away from Clarke and covering his eyes with a hand for good measure, “I’m so sorry.”

“What are you even doing here?” Clarke sounded less panicked and mildly pissed. Bellamy was almost sure that she was going to kill him.

“I brought beer,” he answered, annoyed at the guilty tone to his voice. This moment wasn’t doing anything to tamp down his arousal, though, and he hated himself for it. “And you told me to come in, so I assumed you weren’t naked.”

It was a safe assumption. Seeing Clarke in her underwear was something that Bellamy thought about more often than he cared to admit, but he never once pictured it happening without her explicit approval beforehand. He was a real romantic when he fantasized about his best friend who he also happened to be completely in love with.

This was a disaster.

“I’m not naked.” Clarke said.

“What?”

“I’m not naked. I’m wearing some clothes.”

Bellamy groaned, dropping his hand from his eyes and looking at the ceiling. “I am really not in the position to argue semantics with you,” he said, trying to keep his tone neutral. “I’ll see you later, okay?” What he really needed to do was go home and take a cold shower and stop being turned on by the thought of his half-naked best friend behind him.

Apparently, though, Clarke wanted to torture him. “Bellamy, wait.” And when he stopped, she said again, “Wait. Turn around.”

Really, Bellamy hadn’t known what to expect at that moment. Maybe Clarke had gotten dressed in the time he wasn’t looking. Maybe she was going to smack him for behaving like a horny teenager. What actually happened when he turned around, though, was that Clarke was still in the same attire – or lack thereof – that she had been in the whole time. And she was standing a lot closer to him.

Bellamy’s swallowed past a newly-formed lump in his throat. It was a testament to his strong will and desire to salvage their friendship from this wreckage that he didn’t look down at Clarke’s impressive cleavage that was on display in her tank top. His fingers twitched at his sides, wanting to touch Clarke’s bare legs without his permission, but he stayed in control.

He was amazed with himself, honestly.

“Yes?” He asked, voice cracking from the dryness in his throat.

Clarke’s eyes shone with a mischievous spark that Bellamy would normally love. This time, though, it was directed at him and it made his stomach flip. “Are you okay?”

Bellamy almost rolled his eyes. “You know damn well what’s going on, Clarke.” Because she did. He could tell by her smug expression and by the fact that she was standing straighter, showcasing her breasts in an even more obvious fashion. What Bellamy didn’t know, though, was why she was smug about the situation and not calling him a creep for being turned on by it.

“What’s going on, Bellamy?” Her tone was light, innocent. She raised her hands above her head and brushed them through her hair.

Bellamy reached out and grabbed her arms, stopping the movement. Clarke smirked.

“Yes?”

So he kissed her. It was mostly to get that stupid smirk off her face and only a little bit because Bellamy thought he might actually die if he didn’t get his lips on hers soon.  
Clarke responded immediately, and that was enough of an encouragement for Bellamy to let go of her arms and hold the back of her head, tilting it to his liking and deepening the kiss. A moan fell from Clarke’s lips that went straight to his dick and he moaned in response, dropping a hand to Clarke’s hip to pull her closer.

Kissing Clarke was exactly like Bellamy had expected it would be. She fought him for dominance in the best way, her hands tangling in his hair and tugging lightly when he bit her lip. Her hips pressed against his, giving him a sort of friction that was more frustrating than satisfying and Clarke smirked against his lips like she knew exactly what she was doing.

“Fuck, Clarke,” Bellamy groaned.

“That’s the idea,” she whispered back, lips brushing his, and the last of his restraint broke.  
Bellamy lifted Clarke by the back of her thighs, grinning at her squeal when he turned to drop her on her bed. She laughed as she bounced, scooting up toward the pillows with a grin.

“Come on, Bellamy,” she teased, pulling her tank top off as she lowered herself to the mattress.

And he did, climbing on the bed after her. His lips descended on hers again, their tongues sliding together before he pulled away to taste her jaw, her neck, her collarbone, sucking a bruise into the delicate skin until Clarke moaned for it. Bellamy didn’t consider himself particularly possessive, but there was a caveman part of his brain that loved his mark on her and made him want to make more.

Clarke’s bra was gone after Bellamy fumbled with it for a moment, but his brain all but short-circuited at the sight of her breasts. Clarke smirked knowingly and pressed them together, her thumbs brushing over her nipples enticingly before Bellamy leaned forward and took one into his mouth. The way she arched into the feeling was beautiful. He moved to the other breast, biting and sucking the pebbled peak until Clarke moaned.

“You have gorgeous tits,” Bellamy whispered, kissing the valley between them as he did. “I knew you would. Fuck, you’re beautiful.”

“Have you thought about my tits, Bellamy?” Clarke asked. Her voice was breathless. Bellamy couldn’t help the twinge of pride he felt knowing that he was the one to do that to her.

“Your tits,” he answered, kissing them once more before making his way down her stomach, “Your ass, all of you, Clarke.” He settled between her legs, spreading them and kissing her thigh. His eyes dropped to the dark fabric between them. He’d never really cared much for what his partners wore, preferring to get them naked with no detour to admire their underwear, but he couldn’t help but take the time to appreciate the thong Clarke wore. It probably wasn’t special, just a bit of black lace, but it wrapped around her hips and displayed her ass and it was the reason he was in the position he was right now, so he enjoyed it.

Only for a moment, though, because Clarke was squirming above him and whispering, “Bellamy, please,” and he pulled the little scrap of fabric down her legs and tossed it to the floor uncaringly, his eyes settling on the woman spread out and ready beneath him.

“Please, Bellamy,” Clarke whispered, and that was it.

He dipped his head, licking up the wetness from Clarke’s cunt and moaning in unison with her at the taste. He worked her with his mouth, taking his time, learning from her body and voice what she liked, sticking with things that made her hips buck and her moans turn into keening whines. Her fingers tangled in his hair, holding his head to her as he sucked her clit and Bellamy could’ve sworn he was in heaven.

“Don’t stop,” Clarke commanded, hips rocking, and Bellamy almost laughed. Don’t stop. He never wanted to stop.

He slipped two fingers into her, groaning at the feeling of her walls around him. “Fuck, Clarke,” he whispered, “I bet you’d feel so good around my cock, huh?”

Clarke moaned, high-pitched and breathy. “Please, Bellamy, I’m so close.” And Bellamy dipped his head back down, sucking her clit into his mouth and flicking it with his tongue. It was just a short moment later that Clarke’s body tensed up. Bellamy watched her as her mouth opened, silent, her back arching and her grip in his hair tightening as she came. Bellamy let her ride her way through it, placing soft kisses on her clit as he moved his fingers slowly. After a moment Clarke pushed his head away before pulling it up toward her.

“Bellamy, come up here.” He moved with her request, leaning over her trembling body to his her lips. He withdrew his fingers from her and traced his fingertips over her breasts, smirking at the moan it brought from her.

“Stop smirking,” Clarke murmured.

“Can’t help it,” Bellamy replied. “That was incredible.”

Clarke hummed, eyes still closed, body still sunk into her bed with relaxation. “It could have been better.”

“Yeah?” Bellamy asked, nuzzling her neck and placing soft kisses under her ear. “Tell me what you want. I’ll give it to you.” The promise should have embarrassed him, but there was a distinct lack of embarrassment he felt now that he’d had his face in his best friend’s cunt.

Clarke hummed again, opening her eyes to look up at Bellamy as he looked down at her with what he knew was complete adoration. “I believe you said something about how I’d feel around your cock.”


End file.
